Sharp Relief
by Cheloya
Summary: Hiei trusts no one, because sooner or later, he knows he'll be right. KxH. Deathfic.


Title: Sharp Relief

Author: Rose Flame

Rating: R

Fandom: Yu Yu Hakusho

Characters: Hiei, Kurama

Warnings: Heavy violence. Death. Sex. I don't think it can accurately be called shounen-ai.

Summary: Hiei has always wanted to trust Kurama, but he never could bring himself to do so fully. So when Kurama makes him an offer no sane demon could refuse, he naturally assumes the worst, and exacts fitting punishment... before he knows all the details.

Notes: The song did it. I accept no responsibility for this. The song did it all.

Music: Deftones -- "Knife Prty", because it sounds like someone is screaming Hiei's name at the end.

* * *

The barest flicker, and Hiei stands on the window sill. He taps once, for the sake of announcing his presence, but Kurama has already turned from his homework to slide the window upward, smiling a little oddly. "Hello, Hiei," he says, and his voice is just as different as his smile. It's subtle, but Hiei knows the signs after all he's been through, knows what's to come and is on guard for it instantly, even as he slips into a crouch and slings one leg just inside the sill, bracing his right foot in the corner of the window frame. Kurama reseats himself, still smiling. "I'll just wrap up my homework."

He dares to turn his back on Hiei, carelessly scribbling a few final notes on the best way to assemble a stupid human implement of some kind, or how to cut open a rat. Hiei knows better. As long as you cut it and it died, there was no _wrong _way to cut open a rat. But he has never voiced that particular argument and knows, now, he will never have to. He's always expected the eventual betrayal. No one is completely trustworthy. Even Kurama, the closest... person Hiei has ever known, was only a matter of time.

He didn't want it to go so fast.

Kurama lays his pencil aside and spins his chair around.

"Well," he says, a trifle breathlessly, "What have you been up to lately?" His expression is one of polite interest, even as he stands to lock the door. He usually does this, so that his mother will not accidentally intrude on a conversation, even though they could both hear her and disperse even before she set foot on the stairs. Tonight, Hiei takes it as a warning. His pulse quickens and his eyes narrow slightly despite his attempts to appear as though there is nothing wrong.

"Visiting Yukina."

Kurama sits down on his bed and removes his socks, wriggling his toes thoughtfully in the open air. "I haven't seen her for a while. How is she?" He eyes Hiei, emeralds peeking through blood, and Hiei's breath catches suspiciously in his throat. He shrugs to mask the sudden fear, closes his eyes, ears straining for the slightest hint of sound.

Kurama stands and pads closer. "Hiei? Is everything all right?"

Hiei's hand drops subconsciously to his waist, drawing the blade thoughtfully up toward him, taking the scabbard with it. Kurama's hand lands warmly, hesitantly, on his knee, and Hiei stares at the other demon as blankly as he can manage. Kurama is biting his lip very slightly, eyes concerned, and Hiei wants to believe it isn't all false, wants to trust in the fox. Wants to, and knows that he can't, he mustn't.

"...Hiei?"

"It's nothing."

"Are you sure?" A pause, in which Hiei's glare makes short work of Kurama's hopeful twittering. "Well, if you ever need to talk..." He leaves the invitation open, hand sliding slowly from Hiei's knee to dangle innocently by his side. He retreats to the bed, eyes half-lidded, and he asks, "Why did you come by, tonight?"

And at the same moment, Hiei answers a previous question - or perhaps both questions at once, he isn't sure. "I don't want to talk."

They stare at each other, a little startled, a little edgy, and Kurama cautiously drags his hair around over one shoulder, finger-combing it as is his habit before bed. "Then... what _do_ you want to do?"

Silence.

Kurama, hardly daring to breathe, shifts himself subtly backwards on his bed, keeping his eyes on Hiei, and lies down on his back, still stroking his hair thoughtfully. Hiei's gaze follows him, the half-breed certain to keep the spark of emotion that had always drawn Kurama closer into his eyes. Kurama stretches, eyes sinking slightly closed, the distance between his knees widening slightly. An invitation. Hiei decides.

He brings his sword and scabbard with him, as though too hasty to leave it behind. It's still in his left hand as he crawls between the fox's thighs and leans down to claim his mouth, perhaps more roughly than he needed to. Kurama emits a startled sound, and then a moan as Hiei's tongue, hotter than any other demon's by virtue of his breeding, slips inside to lap patiently, agonisingly slowly, at the roof of his mouth, in the hollow beneath his tongue... Kurama's eyes slip closed, hands pressing up at the weight of Hiei's body, not to get rid of him, but to feel all of him that there is, to touch everything that made Hiei-- he lifts his hips, and Hiei's with them, running his hands up Hiei's sides, around to the small of his back and pressing him close, grinding their hips in small, agonising circles. At any other time, Kurama would have been gratified at the hoarse curse Hiei muttered against his lips, but he can't think, can barely breathe--

Hiei's right hand moves restlessly, clutching at Kurama's hair, his face, slipping down the fox's body, touching, feeling... searching for seeds. He presses his hips forward, jerks them, and Kurama's gasp is high-pitched and needy, so he does it again. His eyes are fluttering, rolling, as Hiei kisses and bites his way along that pale, perfect jaw, his hand in the fox's hair and carefully, methodically picking the fox's diverse weaponry out from between and beneath the thick, heavy strands. He knows the fox cannot possibly want this in truth, wonders briefly why he hasn't noticed that Hiei is robbing him of all his precious plants, wonders at the oddly pliant heat and warmth of the fox's limbs, and brushes it all aside, tongue swiping along Kurama's collar bone. He allows his youki to surge, his skin to burn along Kurama's just enough that the seeds' incineration will go unnoticed. Kurama's own youki flutters as erratically as his human heartbeat.

"Hiei...!"

Hiei slipped further downward, right hand (covered in ash, but Kurama can't see that, isn't paying enough attention even if he could) slipping across Kurama's chest beneath his body, pausing there briefly, so briefly, to play at struggling with the toggles of Kurama's stiff magenta jacket while Kurama gasped and arched, biting savagely into the flesh of his own hand to muffle his voice, strangle the whimpers and moans that were escaping his throat despite his self-control - despite what Hiei knew was really going on. Kurama's eyes slide closed, he opens his mouth to release a moan as Hiei jerks his hips once more, and the way is clear.

"Hi--iei...!"

Hiei rises up off Kurama's body, right hand landing directly on the sword's hilt, pulls it from its sheath in a flash of silver and - drawing his arm back swiftly - the blade slides into Kurama's flesh just below the ribs. Kurama's moan morphs suddenly to a scream, the heat of his blood pumping fiendishly across Hiei's left forearm even as the sword swoops down for a second stab, directly between the ribs, and Kurama is still jerking, back arched and hips still jerking in tiny movements as his lifeblood and his livelihood spill over the sheets. His eyes are wide and disbelieving, fear and agony cutting through the haze of lust. There is a questioning call from downstairs and feet thumping, but Hiei doesn't seem to hear it.

"Bastard. Traitorous bastard."

The words are not Kurama's.

The fox's hands are fluttering, weakly, over Hiei's face, his forearms. He's stopped screaming - Hiei's blade has ruined his lungs. His lips still work, though, and Hiei reads them out of habit, reads them because how can he turn away from someone who would have been the only perfect ally, the only friend, if only he hadn't tried to take advantage of the closeness he was fostering, if only he hadn't tried--

"_Hiei... why did you...? I... I love you... why...?_"

Hiei's eyes snap wide, his face three shades too pale for any living flesh, as he realises what a terrible mistake he has made.

Shiori is knocking on the door, at first quietly and then when no one answers, frantically, angrily, panicking, crying. "Shuichi! _Shuichi!_"

Kurama doesn't seem to hear his mother, his hand tracing the plane of Hiei's cheek one final time, still mouthing those terrible, wonderful words even as the blood bubbled forth from his lips, even as those lovely green eyes mist with something colder than tears.

_I... I love you..._

Hiei's grip on the hilt of his sword loosens.

_I... I love you..._

_I love you..._

_I love you._

_Hiei..._

Dimly, he senses Botan's arrival, hears the sad and oddly understanding bubbles of speech. Ice sears painfully at the corners of his eyes and he can't breathe, can't look any more, can't hear the words or bear to feel the weight of the hand Botan is surely reaching out towards him. He runs, scattering darkened pearls.

He is not there when Shiori finally takes the tiny hatchet she keeps for garden work and breaks through the door. He won't be returning here, not ever again.

Neither of them will.

* * *

A/N: A sequel may be on the way, but then again it might not. 


End file.
